Fevers and Naps
by Kohaku no Hime
Summary: It's not the most conventional way to take a day off of work, but Seto doesn't mind. Set post-series, written for The Imaginatrix.


_…Wow, I'm _way_ out of practice for writing the Kaiba brothers. But practice makes perfect, yeah?_

_This was requested by _The Imaginatrix _for her birthday, and while I'm horrendously late for it I do have it written at last. Thanks for the patience, Trix, and happy (incredibly belated) birthday to you. It's shorter than I would have liked, but I hope you like it!_

* * *

"You're sick."

"'m fine."

"And the fact I just stopped you from falling down the stairs constitutes as fine?"

Seto was currently carrying his brother back up the stairs, ignoring the feeble protests from the child. It did not matter that as of right now he was running late for a meeting with the board of directors, nor did it matter that he would run late for the rest of the meetings scheduled for the day as a result.

He'd nearly missed it at first, though he'd felt something was wrong when it took more time for Mokuba to rise and get ready for the day; the child was not the greatest morning person, but even so the child always rose when the alarm went off and this morning Mokuba had woken late. The younger Kaiba had also been far more quiet than usual on the way out of his room, staggering slightly as he tottered down the hallway.

Mokuba had made it about halfway down the stairs before he toppled, his legs crumpling underneath him. It was years of honed instinct that had Seto take the steps two at a time and stop his brother seconds before the child tumbled down the stairs, and after pressing a wrist to the back of his younger brother's forehead determined the cause of Mokuba's collapse—his forehead was damp and warm, and coupled with the unnatural flush and the way the stormy gray eyes had clouded it was enough to identify the fever.

There had been a flu bug cycling through Kaiba Corporation. Seto very rarely, if ever, got sick. Mokuba, on the other hand, was the victim of more than one illness that cycled through the company. The signs had been there yesterday, when Mokuba had mentioned a sore throat and started stifling coughs, but these small symptoms had clearly developed into a full-blown flu overnight.

"No protests. You're going back to bed," he said now, going back down the hall to Mokuba's room.

"Can't," Mokuba mumbled, struggling weakly in his brother's arms. "The RP project for the Solid Vision presentation's today. Have to…my job…"

The project was something Seto and Mokuba had been working on for several months. Now that KaibaLand had been successfully opened and was thriving they were focusing back on the gaming industry. The two brothers had worked on the idea of incorporating the Solid Vision hologram technology into games, and today was the day they would be presenting it to the tech teams who would be taking part in the game development.

"You aren't going to present anything with a high fever. You don't think as clearly when you're sick, and it would be a waste of time and resources to go back over what you cover today. You're taking a sick day," Seto replied patiently. He adjusted Mokuba's weight, shifting the child into one arm while opening the door with his free hand.

"But you never take sick days," Mokuba insisted weakly. "You always…"

He trailed off and did not finish the sentence—even though he was teetering on the edge of delirium he did not miss the way Seto's entire body had stiffened. He mumbled an apology and leaned into Seto's chest, suddenly tired.

Seto did not say anything for several minutes, instead focusing on getting Mokuba back into his pajamas and into bed; the child also remained silent, though it was more because of the fever that he did not say anything. It was not until Seto had finished tucking Mokuba into bed and was turning to leave when Mokuba's smaller hand shot forward, catching Seto's wrist.

"Yes?" he asked quietly.

There was something there in Mokuba's glazed eyes, a silent plea for the elder to stay, but instead a feebly forced grin worked its way onto his features. "Hope the meeting goes well."

Seto heard the undercurrent of misery his younger brother was trying very hard to mask. Mokuba had a different reason for denying his very obvious illness; it was not that he was trying to emulate his older brother, but rather because of what being sick meant to him. Gozaburo had not allowed Seto to be by his brother's side when the child had been ill in the past, as he cared little for Mokuba—there had been more than one instance where he battled out a fever completely on his own and without Seto nearby.

And Mokuba had not forgotten those times.

Seto gave a very gentle but reassuring squeeze on Mokuba's sweaty hand. "It will."

He turned and left the room, closing Mokuba's door behind him. He stood in the hallway, his face clouding for the briefest of moments before he went down the stairs. Roland and Marcus were waiting for him patiently by the front door.

"The car's been pulled around, Mr. Kaiba," said Marcus smoothly.

"I'm not in need of it."

The two other men both started, surprise briefly lighting their features.

"Mokuba is sick and I will not be coming into work. I'm canceling my meetings for the day. The RP project briefing will be moved to next week, as I see no purpose in meeting over the weekend. Notify all parties involved of this change immediately."

"Of course, Mr. Kaiba." Roland cleared his throat, and when Seto turned to him he said, "Forgive me for speaking out, but there will be some members of the board who might not take this change in stride, as you have a meeting with them scheduled. They may decide to protest at your actions."

Seto was not fazed at all by this observation. "I give you permission to fire them, then," he said smoothly. "If they can't comprehend or obey an order from their boss then they're idiots, and I do not pay to have morons on my staff."

There was the barest edge of annoyance to his voice and neither Roland nor Marcus chose to comment on it. Their boss made no secret of the fact that he despised the board, especially after the fiasco with the Big Five, and even though he had hired five new members it did little to alleviate the intense dislike felt.

Once the bodyguards had departed Seto returned upstairs. He pulled off the blue silk tie, took off his shoes, and changed into more comfortable clothes. Once finished, his next stop was to his home office, and after putting his laptop on his office chair he wheeled it out of the room; he pushed it into Mokuba's room, maneuvering it past the clutter on the floor and to Mokuba's bedside. When he finished that small task he left the room again.

He returned ten minutes later carrying medicine, a small glass and a bowl full of water, and a washcloth. He set the washcloth inside the bowl first before he got out two pills from the box. It had been years since Mokuba had been sick enough to need Seto to care for him, but he had not forgotten how to care for fevers and the like—he'd raised the boy practically on his own.

"I need you to sit up, kiddo," he said gently, using a tone of voice reserved only for Mokuba.

Mokuba had been half-dozing when Seto had come back in, but the sound of Seto's voice roused him and he sat up with a soft groan. "Seto?" he asked sleepily, concerned. "How'd th'meeting go?"

"I'm not going," he replied, dropping the pills into Mokuba's hands. "Take this."

Mokuba shot his brother a look that was both alarmed and bewildered. "But Seto, you can't—"

"Take the medicine," said Seto patiently, and he waited until Mokuba had obediently popped the pills into his mouth before handing the child the glass of water. While Mokuba was drinking he said, "I won't attend that meeting until you're better."

"But you've got to," Mokuba protested groggily, trying to sit up straighter. "We've gotta—"

Seto gently shushed him, pulling the dripping washcloth from the bowl and wringing it out. "Lie back," he said quietly, and after a brief pause Mokuba slumped back onto the mattress. The older Kaiba lifted Mokuba's bangs and rested the washcloth over the child's forehead.

"You were just as involved in the RP project as I was. I won't present it without you," he said after a moment. "Just rest. I'm working from home today and if you need anything I'll be right here."

Mokuba stared, caught off guard by the latest turn of events. He did not argue against this statement, however, instead watching his older brother settle himself in the chair with half-lidded eyes; for a few minutes afterward nothing but the sound of Seto's fingers tapping computer keys broke the comfortable silence in the room.

"Seto?"

Seto's fingers stilled and he looked back to Mokuba. The child's eyes, though sleep-clouded, were lit with hope. "C'n we play game?" he asked, his voice slurring.

The older Kaiba paused. "We will," he replied at last. "Sleep first."

Mokuba seemed to think this over before yawning widely and closing his eyes; Seto thought the child had fallen asleep when his younger brother remained still, but a few minutes later Mokuba's eyes opened again. "S'to?"

"Hm?"

"…Glad you're here."

Seto froze at that, noticing the tired but pleased smile that lit Mokuba's features and one that crept into his eyes. It was contagious and a small smile quirked the corner of Seto's mouth. He did not say anything in reply, however, picking up one of Mokuba's hands and giving it a small squeeze.

That one gesture spoke louder than words to Mokuba, and even as the child went to sleep the smile was still present on his face.

Seto debated for a few seconds before setting his laptop on the nearby desk, leaving the room. He would not play chess—he had not touched a chessboard in years—but even so he knew where Mokuba kept some of his board games. It wouldn't hurt to have one of the games ready to play when his younger brother woke up.

* * *

Mokuba yawned and sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He already felt ten times better than he had that morning, when his head had felt full of concrete and yet his body felt like it was filled with helium. The medicine had kicked in, he knew, and a glance to the alarm clock nearby revealed that it was now the early afternoon.

Once he was awake enough he looked around the room, blinking back the sleep and trying to remember what had happened; the now halfway dry washcloth slipped off his head and onto the blankets, and to prevent it from soaking the sheets Mokuba dropped it into the bowl on his nightstand. The details of how he'd gotten here were foggy and slow to recall, but at length he remembered and he sat up straighter. He'd had a fever and had nearly fallen down the stairs…Seto had not gone into work…he'd stayed with him…

But then why hadn't Seto greeted him when he'd woken up? Why wasn't he hearing the laptop keys clicking?

A glance to the side of his bed revealed the reason and Mokuba stifled a small laugh. Seto had dozed off, taking a very rare but well-deserved nap. His hands draped limply over the keyboard and his fingers pressed down on the keys; his head was tilted back against the chair, his chin resting on his shoulder.

Mokuba's eyes softened. Seto had not needed to take a day off just because Mokuba had been sick, and yet he had. He had even promised to play a game with him…Seto must have been truly tired if he had willingly taken a nap.

Mokuba stretched, trying to be as quiet as he could manage, and then slipped from the mattress. He remained motionless for several seconds, partially to regain his balance after being stationary for so long and partially because he did not want to wake Seto—his older brother was a terribly light sleeper and it took very little to wake him.

When Mokuba was assured that Seto was going to remain asleep he crept across the room and carefully pulled the discarded quilt off the floor, dragging it back over to Seto's feet. He paused, realizing that the quilt would not stay put unless there was a footrest. After mulling over the problem Mokuba's face brightened and he carefully pushed the wheeled chair closer to the bed; he lifted Seto's feet cautiously and, after waiting to see if his brother would move, gingerly set them on the mattress.

Satisfied that Seto was now comfortably perched, Mokuba next eyed the laptop and frowned. Getting the computer off of the older man's lap was easier said than done, but after studying the scene for a few more seconds Mokuba gently took one of his brother's hands and lifted it, setting it on Seto's lap; he repeated the process for the other hand, but Seto stirred and Mokuba froze. The elder Kaiba did not wake, however, and Mokuba very gingerly deposited Seto's hand on top of his other one.

He lifted off the laptop and stifled a laugh at the seven pages filled with assorted letters and numbers, setting the computer down on the floor and out of the way; he took a few moments to fix the typos before closing the laptop. He returned to Seto's side and then lifted the quilt, draping it over Seto's slumbering body.

Seto shifted again, his eyelids flickering and even mumbling something under his breath, but he did not entirely wake up and Mokuba relaxed. Smiling at the success of this small gesture, he turned to go back to bed when one of his bare feet brushed against something on the floor. He jumped and shot a startled gaze to the object, trying to determine what he'd nearly kicked.

Sitting innocently on the floor was a small pile of games, ranging from a regular deck of cards to a checkerboard. There were also some movies that were stacked neatly nearby and he came to the startling conclusion that these were his favorite movies.

He looked back up at where his brother was sleeping and a smile started to grow. "Thanks, Seto," he murmured softly, carefully crossing the room and climbing back into bed.

It would not hurt to take another small nap, if only to allow Seto to sleep a while longer.


End file.
